daffodils in a pretty string
by cithrin
Summary: "There was just one problem...She was in love with Damon Salvatore." A continuation of 6x15.
1. Chapter 1

_So, hello. Can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm officially back on ffnet because of these two. I haven't written something in a long while, but Bonnie and Damon pulled me back in. There's just something so addictive about them. I have to let it out. Their latest hug was too wonderful not to write about. So, this is my belated attempt. I hope you enjoy this one-shot._

_The title, of course, is taken from Tom Odell's Another Love. _

* * *

(+++)

Her heart pounded in her chest. _Thump, thump, thump._ It was going to burst through her body and flood the room with her joy.

All the emotions she had previously suppressed were coming out in full bloom. A desperate smile cracked through her dry lips. Her eyes watered against her will. She wasn't supposed to cry. This was a happy moment, after all. But some happy moments are tragic.

She ran to him as if he was about to disappear. It didn't matter that she was back home; she still felt that all-consuming fear at the thought of finding herself alone in that kitchen again. She wouldn't bear it. Not this time around. Not when happiness was just a step away.

She crashed into him, needing to feel his physical being, his _real_ body, not a figment of her imagination. If he was really here – if she was really home – she could breathe at last.

The overwhelming need to touch him made her usual inhibitions disappear. She brought her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and she didn't give a damn. For once, she could make him her center. For once, she could push down her pride and accept that he was what she needed right now. She could smell him, smell his vampire scent, but the witch inside her didn't protest. She inhaled and even giggled into his shoulder, still finding it hard to believe she was truly here. There was something dreamlike about their reunion.

But her giggling stopped when she felt his arms coming round her, gripping her back. He was responding to her embrace. He was giving her the proof she needed. He was real. His palms caressed her spine, sending shivers down her skin. He gave a grunt, a happy grunt of relief that made her stomach jump.

"You made it," he spoke into her hair, squeezing the breath out of her.

Bonnie laughed to hide her turmoil. She was too absorbed by him to wonder how it would look if someone walked in at that moment.

His vampire strength used to be strange and alienating, but now, it offered comfort and safety. She reveled in that feeling of being held for dear life.

When they finally broke away and he placed her down, Bonnie still felt warm. Her cheeks were burning. A normal reaction, perhaps, after all this excitement, but certainly not very appropriate. Damon Salvatore was not supposed to make her blush. She nudged him playfully, like they used to do on the Other Side. A gesture shared between siblings, or best friends. But somehow it felt a little off after their embrace. Like a weak rain shower after a blazing summer day. He grinned at her and ruffled her hair, but the moment was awkward.

Bonnie cleared her throat. "It's good to be back. _Finally_. For a moment there…I thought I wouldn't make it."

"For a moment there…so did I," he confessed, his eyes growing darker. "Gotta admit you scared me."

Bonnie frowned. She had never heard him speak like that. Damon did not get _scared_. "Wait, what are you –"

"I _saw_ you. You were gonna off yourself, Bon. That Bourbon bottle. Our pact. You think I'd forget?"

Bonnie opened her mouth in shock. "_Oh_. I...I thought I felt a presence. But I figured it was my mind playing tricks."

"Well, your mind must've been playing _something_ for you to…" Damon trailed off, swallowing hard.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. I just – couldn't deal with the loneliness anymore. I was going insane. For a while, I lost hope." Bonnie watched his face carefully, afraid to find that he didn't understand, afraid to see judgement there. Funny, she was supposed to be the judgy one.

"I get it, I do. Next time though, let a guy know. Sure, you might have to pierce through time and space to send me the message, but I feel I deserve to be included in _our_ pact."

Bonnie smiled with relief. "No worries. I don't plan on killing myself with anyone else."

"_Good_. And maybe don't kill yourself at all. Gave Elena a heart attack."

Bonnie was startled to hear her friend's name for the first time. It was a loud wake-up call to reality. She really was _home_. There was no doubt about it anymore. The universe was no longer made up of the two of them. And she hadn't even thought about calling Elena. But Damon was clearly one step ahead of her.

"She'll be pretty thrilled to see you. But make sure you don't jump in her arms too," he teased.

Bonnie laughed it off, although the unease in her stomach hadn't completely disappeared. She had grown unaccustomed to well, anyone _else_. For such a long time, her whole world had been him, which sounded cheesy and plain ridiculous, but it was true. She had gotten used to the idea that they wouldn't make it out, that they'd probably die together…She had sealed her fate. For all her big talk about hope, she had felt, deep down, that he would be the last face she would ever see.

_God, Bonnie, you're such a sap, _she thought, chiding herself.

But she still had to wonder. Would she be able to face her other friends? It felt like coming out of a dark room to blinding sunlight. In the first moment, you just wanted to go back into the darkness.

"So…what did I miss?" she asked, sitting down at the counter and pulling a plate of pancakes towards her. Damon obliged her and sat down next to her. Just like old times. Except not.

"What's with the suit?"

Damon sighed. "This is going to be painful to recount."

But he did. He told her everything that happened, how Liz Forbes had gotten ill, how she had passed away without Caroline or anyone else being able to prevent it, how it had pretty much torn the blonde vampire apart.

"I might've preserved Liz's spirit using magic," Bonnie mused.

"Forget it. No supernatural trick could save her. It was her time."

"But maybe I could have -"

"Look, every time you try to screw natural order over, you end up half-dead. Let's not play with fire."

Bonnie conceded he might be right.

"Caroline must be in hell right now."

"She'll pull through. She has to. We've all…lost people. It made us stronger," he said, looking at her as if she knew best. And maybe she did. Her father was gone and her mother was far away, mourning her humanity and what was left of their dwindling family.

"I should be there for her right now."

"You've _just_ gotten home. I think you can take a break."

He went on about their combined efforts to bring her back from the Other Side, although Bonnie could tell Damon had borne the brunt of that task, at least emotionally. _He must have felt so guilty_, she realized with a sudden surge of sympathy.

"Ah…Jeremy, for once, was not entirely useless," Damon admitted with dark humor. He looked down at his plate and muttered almost under his breath, "of course he skipped town afterwards. Couldn't wait for his girlfriend to get back."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"I said he left for art school."

Bonnie swallowed. "_Oh_, that's great. I honestly didn't even think he'd graduate. I'm glad he pulled himself together. You know, I wished for him to have a happy life."

Damon smiled. "Yeah, it's not like we compelled him that happy life for him."

"Damon! You didn't!"

He placed a hand over his chest. "Hey, I wasn't alone. Elena agreed to it."

"And that makes it okay?!"

"Well, it's _her_ idiot brother."

"And my b -" But she stopped short of spelling it out, because really, after so much time, she had no idea what he was anymore. And he was not around to clarify the situation.

"Boyfriend?" Damon finished for her.

She didn't answer. Instead, she focused intensely on her fluffy pancakes. She had made them out of some sadistic, but ultimately affectionate instinct to recreate their nightmare. A punchline to a pretty bad joke. But maybe she _did_ like pancakes, after all.

"I guess Elena had a right to make that choice. But it still doesn't sit right with me," Bonnie mumbled, taking a large bite and chewing thoughtfully.

"I knew it wouldn't. And get ready to feel more uncomfortable."

He told her about Kai and how they had made numerous deals with him in order to get her back. All of this had led to him acquiring more power. He was the leader of a whole coven now.

Bonnie pinched the bridge of her nose. "He is a dead man. I don't care how much stronger he is now. I don't care if he's got the powers of Merlin himself. I will knock him out for what he did to me. Bastard."

She could tell Damon had stiffened next to her. He pulled his shoulders up and stared her down. When he tipped her chin up, she was forced to look at him.

"Bonnie. What did he _do_?"

His voice didn't sound casual anymore. Bonnie had grown to learn the variations in his tone. He only ever used this one when he was about to throttle someone.

She shrugged. "He's a teenage psychopath. I didn't expect him _not_ to screw me over. I survived, that's what matters."

But Damon was obviously displeased with her cryptic answer.

"_Bennett_. What did he do?"

Bonnie sighed. "He may have stabbed me a couple of times. But I made sure he felt pain too. After I sent my magic away, things turned ugly. Last time I saw that brat, he knifed me in the stomach and left the Other Side without me."

Damon had already gotten up and was pacing the kitchen floor.

"I'll rip his head off. I'll turn him into witchy ashes."

"Damon -"

"I'll tear him to pieces, one by one."

"You won't, because if anyone is teaching him a lesson, it's _me_. And with Qetsiyah's magic on my side, he doesn't stand a chance."

Damon surveyed her with something resembling pride.

"You sound like a regular badass, Bon Bon. The Other Side turned you into Clint Eastwood, for all I know."

Bonnie blew on her knuckles and chuckled.

But Damon's smile vanished slightly when he remembered, "last time you used Qetsiyah's magic things went downhill fast."

"Ah, yeah I know, so I have a backup plan this time. I will wash it out of my system and get my magic back from Miss Cuddles."

Damon had a sudden revelation. "Miss Cuddles! I'll get her for you."

Bonnie had to hide a smile. She didn't know if Damon was aware, but he was acting like a ten year-old. He often _did_ play the kid and it annoyed her to no end, but she had never found him more endearing as she did now.

_That alone time really messed with your head_, she decided.

She followed Damon up the stairs, not wanting to be left by herself again for a single second. She had enjoyed enough solitary time to last her a century.

She was pretty surprised when she saw him dash into his room. What could he possibly need there?

He came out holding her teddy bear.

"I didn't know you kept her in your room."

"Like I was going to let it lie around for that asshole Kai to find it."

Bonnie bit her lip and took Miss Cuddles from his arms. Her comfort toy had a different weight to it. Perhaps it was the magic, but she couldn't shake off the strange sensation that Damon was somehow imprinted there too.

She was being stupid, once again, getting all worked up over such a small thing. She was back home, and yet she couldn't stop overthinking everything. Damon had obviously kept the bear there for smart, practical reasons.

"Thanks, Damon."

She had to snap out of it. All right, so they weren't a unit anymore. It wasn't just Damon and Bonnie in Hell anymore. But this was better. Wasn't it?

_Of course it is!_

"I should show you something," she said, more to distract herself.

She sat him down and played him the video she had recorded. They bickered again like old times about her filming techniques and she felt another disturbing pang of nostalgia which she suppressed with shame.

"There…right there. I saw her as I was going up."

Damon grabbed the camcorder from her hands and stared at the video, his eyes bulging out in shock and…hope?

His frame shook with the effort of spelling out the words. "This isn't possible. That's - that's my mother."

It was Bonnie's turn to look shocked. She glanced at the woman with the wide blue eyes who had looked so ethereal and beautiful in that one glimpse she had had of her. She could almost see the resemblance.

She had been dressed according to the period, 1903. But who's to say she didn't come from an even _older_ time?

"Damon. How is this happening?"

"I have no idea. My mother died from consumption when I was young."

"Oh, God. Do you think she's a ghost?"

"We didn't see any ghosts in 1994."

"That doesn't mean there couldn't be one in one of these dimensions. We don't know much about them."

"But this isn't right. She shouldn't _be_ there."

"In the prison world? Because it's a prison?" she asked.

Damon stared at her. "My mom wasn't some evil psychopath. Why would she get trapped in -?"

Bonnie touched his shoulder gently. "Hey. We don't know that only psychopaths get sent there. And we don't know that's _really_ her. Let's find out before we jump to conclusions."

"Right. I mean it can't _possibly_ be her," he scoffed, although his mien was dark and troubled. He looked like a man who had just found out a long lost hero of his was still alive.

"Damon…do you _want_ it to be her, though? Deep down?"

He scrunched his eyebrows in that familiar way she knew meant she was right.

"You mean do I want my mother to be this undead creature who's been stuck in a magical jail for decades by herself? Nope, can't say I do."

"You _know_ that's not what I meant. You must miss her, or at least want to see her again."

Damon shook his head. "I want to get to the bottom of this, but…dead mothers should stay dead."

Bonnie knew what he meant underneath this denial. He was afraid she might not be human and hence, not his mother anymore.

"She kept a photo of you and Stefan in her room. She still remembers you. She still…" _Loves you_. But the words died on her lips.

Damon nodded his head perfunctorily. "Well, we'll know soon enough. I'd better go call Elena."

Bonnie acquiesced and pulled her hand away from his shoulder. Her mind was still stuck in 1994, and it would take some work to get rid of that feeling, that feeling that they were still alone. They weren't. Which was great. It was wonderful. She was happy. It was just that – she didn't want to lose that special friendship they had built in their time together.

_He'll still be my friend_, she reasoned. But would he? She knew he cared about her, but things were different now. What if they grew apart again? She hadn't minded before, but now she did, and it made her heart lurch painfully at the thought of losing him.

But it wouldn't come to that. She was being dramatic. Things were bound to change. That did not mean loss. It did not mean gain either. It only meant that life went on and she had to cope with it.

"Don't tell Elena about me yet. I want to surprise her. And Caroline too," she said, rising to her feet, ready to face reality at last.

"That should do both of them some good," he agreed with a tight smile. "They've only had bad news so far."

"I can imagine. But the Salvatore brothers took care of them, I'm sure."

"Speaking of which, I should probably thank you."

"You'll have to narrow it down. There's a whole list," she teased.

Damon smiled. "I thought Elena had erased me completely from her memories, but I guess working together, trying to get you back home, stirred something in her. She realized I wasn't completely hopeless."

Bonnie blinked.

"You know, you're the one who kept saying there's hope for me. Well, Elena saw that. So…you were right."

Bonnie nodded her head eagerly and forced a cheerful smile on her lips. "Of course I was right. I usually am." She tried to hold that smile for as long as she could. But something kept pulling it down. Until it looked like a grimace.

_What the hell is wrong with you? Why aren't you happy for him? Why aren't you happy for Elena? _

"You okay, Bon Bon?"

She grinned, although she felt tears smarting in her eyes.

"Never better."

It was probably the wrong time to cry, but happy moments are often tragic. She watched him walk away, phone glued to his ear. His voice was full of warmth and affection as he spoke to Elena. His rightful girlfriend. The love of his life. Hadn't he fought so hard to be with her? Hadn't he gone against everyone and everything, even his brother?

Bonnie turned away. She felt the loud pounding of her heart in her ears. This was no longer 1994. That Damon had loved Elena deeply, but he had also agreed to die with Bonnie. Their pact, she still remembered it vividly.

They had been sitting in front of the TV, sprawled listlessly on the couch, re-watching a Whitney Houston movie. They were close to each other, but not quite touching, because that would admit weakness, a kind of defeat. As long as there was still a smidgen of animosity between them, the Other Side had not yet won. They could still be Damon and Bonnie, reluctant partners, reluctant friends. But as the movie unwound and they reached the last scene, something shifted in their mood. They watched as Whitney ran to her bodyguard and kissed him hungrily on the lips, and, although they'd seen it a million times before, this time, it made them more depressed than ever.

Maybe it was because, no matter how many times they watched the movie, Whitney always got back on that plane and flew away to her destination, leaving Kevin Costner to move on to a new client. You couldn't change endings. Separation was inevitable. You could kiss one last time, but what was the point?

She remembered he reached out first and placed a cold hand over hers. It wasn't supposed to be gentle or sweet. He squeezed her fingers resentfully.

"We need a drink," he'd said. "And an exit strategy."

"An exit strategy?"

"We have to think about the future, Bonnie. Namely, that there _isn't_ one."

Usually, she'd fight him on it and clamor about the importance of staying positive and not moping around like a brooding vampire, because it helped _no one_. But this time, the darkness had gotten to her and she just nodded her head silently, like there was no fight left in her.

He was down in the cellars for a long time. She grew scared. She stared at the black TV screen and started crying, something she only did in the privacy of her room. The truth was, she wanted to run to someone, like Whitney had in the movie. Even if it was pointless, even if it didn't last. She wanted to hold someone tight, wrap her arms around them, make them her center. But there was no one here…except Damon.

He was back before she knew it.

He placed the dusty bottle of Bourbon on the coffee table between them.

"Here's how we'll do it."

He opened his mouth to describe his gruesome plan, but he caught her red-rimmed eyes, how she quickly wiped away the tears and hid her face from him. Bonnie never let him see her cry. He stopped mid-sentence. He sat back down. This time, when he took her hand it _was_ meant to be gentle. But she pulled away.

"Bonnie?"

"Tell me. Tell me your plan. Just…don't let me die alone, Damon."

He was visibly shaken. And unprepared. That's why he pulled her shoulders to him and rested his chin in her hair.

"That's a promise."

Bonnie snapped out of the memory quickly. It was in the past, a past without a future. Now, she _was_ in the future and she had her whole life ahead of her.

There was just one problem. It was small, even inconsequential in the scheme of things. But it _was_ a problem.

"Don't worry about that now…" Damon was saying, pacing the hallway, "Blondie reacted like I thought she would. She just needs to get it out of her system. But I think she'll turn around when she gets a call from a certain someone. You might not be so averse to it yourself. I can't tell you, don't want to spoil the surprise." He turned around and winked at Bonnie. "Like I said, I'm bound to secrecy. Yeah, love you too, Elena."

Bonnie swallowed. She was in love with Damon Salvatore.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello again. Thank you for your reviews and encouragement, I was pleasantly surprised :) I'm still on a writing craze because of these two so I decided to add more to the story. I don't know exactly how much more I'll write, but I have this narrative in my head and I need to get it out because I ship them too much. Does that make sense? Anyway, I hope you'll like it. _

_(thanks also to the anons **Guest, Vie, JChatedelena, Sammy**)_

* * *

(+++)

It was terrible to find out you were in love with your best friend's boyfriend. It was also terrible because Damon had become a close friend. And she was about to ruin their friendship with her unwarranted feelings.

_This is the PTSD talking. You got used to him, that's all, _she thought with dismay._ He was your only friend for a while. It makes sense to grow attached._

But not this attached. It shouldn't have twisted her insides to hear Damon tell Elena he loved her. It shouldn't have made her chest hurt, or turn her eyes misty. She should have been happy for them, because they had finally found their way back to each other. The first month of their captivity, Damon had talked about Elena constantly, about how she probably thought he was dead and had moved on and how it sucked he couldn't let her know he was alive. Of course, in typical Damon fashion, he hadn't spelled out his feelings; he had made casual remarks and self-deprecating jokes, but Bonnie had been there to shake him out of his moods and assure him that Elena was devastated and would be devastated for a while.

"How can you think she's moved on so fast?"

Damon had shrugged. "She's a vampire. We choose to shut things off and go with the flow rather than experience a big amount of pain. If I were her, that's what I'd do."

"Thank God she's not you. But even if she did shut it off, it would only mean she's in denial, not that she's forgotten you."

After a while, however, Damon's tune changed and he no longer complained about Elena moving on. Now, he _wanted_ her to move on. He wanted her to be happy without him.

"I just hope she doesn't settle for some college idiot," he had confessed to Bonnie one night. "But I wouldn't have her waste her life away on my account. It's not like I was good enough for her anyway. She'll find someone better, someone who can make her really happy."

Bonnie had been slightly confused at his choice of words. "You don't think you made her _really_ happy?"

"Guess I did, but it was always too intense or too short-lived. We were never very stable."

"Granted, you were never given the chance. I'm sure that under normal, non-supernatural conditions, you two could have worked," Bonnie had comforted him.

At that point in their imprisonment, they had both been semi-convinced they weren't getting out of there anymore. So it made sense that Damon had said,

"That's what I'm afraid of sometimes. Of _being_ given the chance. Of finding out that we don't actually work in the normal, boring settings of real life."

"What are the normal, boring settings?" Bonnie had asked.

Damon had stayed silent for a long while. She had thought he wouldn't answer at all, but then he had looked up towards the ceiling like a convict about to meet the death sentence and muttered,

"The settings where Elena is human."

Bonnie had been stunned. He had refused to elaborate on what he had meant by that, but Bonnie had figured out what he was truly afraid of. That a human Elena would not like their intensity, their darkness. The old Elena had found Damon amusing at best, but certainly not boyfriend material. It was vampire Elena who accepted him as he was.

And Bonnie?

She was not human, but she was not a vampire either. She could safely say she did _not_ accept Damon as he was. Their time in the prison world had been spent on her telling him off and him finding new ways to annoy her. So maybe what she felt right now was _not_ unconditional. Elena loved him regardless of what he did. Maybe _that_ was true love.

She did not know. All she knew was that she felt a big hole in her stomach and if it wasn't love, it was still something strong enough to make her wince at the thought of Elena and Damon together. She hated herself for it. This was not how it was supposed to go. It had never happened to her before. Caroline and Elena had dated consistently throughout high school, but she had never been tempted by any of their boyfriends. Of course, she had not spent three months with them to find out.

She held Miss Cuddles tightly in her arms. Maybe these feelings would go away now that she was home. Maybe all she needed was to see her friends and get back to her normal routine, become the Bonnie Bennett from before. Certainly, some aspects would be forever marked by her awful experience, and there was a good chance that old Bonnie was gone for good, but these romantic feelings couldn't be permanent. They were only a by-product, an accident. Perhaps what she felt was only the aftermath of a nightmare.

_I have to stay away from him until this phase is over._

The prospect saddened her greatly since he was one of the few people she could really talk to about her trauma, but the alternative was being in his presence, pretending to be his friend while secretly yearning for more. He didn't deserve that.

Damon offered to drive her home, but she insisted on walking.

"I want to see the people on the street, hear the cars and the music, feel the hustle and bustle…you know, something that's not completely devoid of human life. I kind of hate the silence now."

"Well, this is still Mystic Falls, so chances are it's still pretty boring and deserted outside, but sure, if that makes you happy. Call me when you get in. And I'll pick you up tomorrow to take you to Whitmore."

"Um, it's okay, I can drive there myself. You should…probably look into your mom and everything."

Damon frowned, his eyes roaming over her features uncertainly.

"Are you sure? I can do both, you know. I just want to know you're okay."

Bonnie tried to suppress the strange lightness she got whenever he mentioned he cared about her.

"I am. I mean, I'm going to be. I just need time to adjust. But you don't have to babysit me or something."

"Don't tell anyone, but I might - and I'm saying _might_ \- enjoy babysitting you," he teased.

"Your awful secret is safe with me," she smiled. _But what about my secret?_

"You could stick around some more, maybe eat something other than pancakes," he said, pointing to the kitchen.

Bonnie gulped, her palms sweating in her clenched fists.

"Haven't we spent enough time alone together?" she joked, rolling her eyes.

"Are you kidding me? It will last me into the next century and the next, and the one after that," he replied, smirking.

Bonnie wanted to kick herself. But perhaps pretending not to care would make it real. If she worked at it hard enough, she might even call it the truth. _I don't like Damon Salvatore romantically. I don't. I don't love him, or get butterflies in my stomach when he grins like that, eyes all wide and blue…_

She almost jumped out of her skin when he touched her shoulder and leaned into her.

"Stay safe, okay?"

"Sure thing!" she almost yelped.

_Damn it. Damn it. Damn it._

* * *

Alone in the confines of her room, Bonnie paced and paced until her feet grew sore. Her old home was unchanged. There was no mother, father, Grams or sibling to make it any different. No company to make her forget her troubling thoughts. There was only silence and, as she had told Damon before, she hated those.

She turned on her laptop and TV and made sure their volumes were high enough to drown out the ocean of quiet that threatened to spill into her ears. But no matter how much loud techno music she forced herself to listen to, she couldn't get rid of Damon and his face burning into her retina.

The walls were closing in on her. Every minute or so, she had to look out the window to confirm that this was the populated Mystic Falls and not the empty one.

She had to go somewhere where there were many people, where the world danced and burned with energy.

She was tempted to call Elena and drive up to Whitmore that very moment, but it was almost midnight and she did not feel up to it. She was not emotionally equipped for another reunion. What was more, she feared this reunion the most. She entertained the absurd notion that Elena could tell she had feelings for Damon just by looking at her. As if there was a big "loves Damon" sign on her forehead.

"Stop it!" she yelled to herself. "I don't love him!"

_But you kinda do_, a small voice whispered in her head.

It was so frustrating. She was a traitor. The worst kind of traitor; an involuntary one. After all, the road to hell was paved with good intentions. It was bad enough that the fabric of reality was now foreign to her; she did not need another emotional upheaval.

"Let's get you drunk."

It was a stupid decision that old Bonnie would have never condoned, but old Bonnie wasn't here anymore.

It was a Friday night, which meant there was _some_ high school party was going on somewhere in the neighborhood. This being a small town, the kids liked to party even harder to make up for the lack of actual urban grittiness. There was always a decent amount of alcohol that got passed around. Ideally, she wanted to drink surrounded by as many bodies and talking mouths as possible.

Bonnie rummaged through her wardrobe and found a short red dress she hadn't worn since high school. She put it on and found that it still molded to her body, except that the Bonnie staring back at her from the mirror looked like she'd earned a couple of battle scars and consequently, the dress clashed with that great big gulf of bitterness between her eyebrows. Damon called it her "scrunchy, judgy face". But she flashed a fake smile and gave herself a thumbs up. She looked good. And she would not cry on her first night back. She was stronger than that, much stronger.

She got into her car, ready to land at the nearest house party. Her heart was beating fast. She was usually in control of her life. Maybe this was a bad idea. But she kept driving.

She didn't have to search long.

The seniors were giving a bash at a house near Wickery Bridge. She was pretty sure that Jeremy would know some of them by name.

_Jeremy._

Strange how he popped up into her head randomly. She hadn't called him yet to let him know. But she shut her mind off. If she let herself think more, she'd have another reason to feel guilty. And one Gilbert on her conscience was enough.

She got out of the car and strutted confidently to the front door. She didn't have to worry about getting in. The door was ajar; people were coming in and out, laughing, touching each other, inhabiting their own youthful universe that did not include PTSD, insanity or torture. She didn't want anyone to ever go through what she had, but it seemed unfair that these people got to waltz around carefree while she had to drag her baggage everywhere.

The house was packed with loud and rambunctious teenagers. They were everywhere, on the stairs, in the living room, in the hallways, in the kitchen…you couldn't escape them. Everywhere you turned, every inch of space was filled up. She sighed with relief.

_Just what I needed._

Their mingled breaths, their high-pitched laughter, their uncoordinated movements, they all had the charm of community and togetherness. She was part of something; still an outsider, but surrounded enough so as not to feel the pressing emptiness inside her.

People were starting to give her odd looks, but she had arrived at a point in the party where people were tipsy enough not to care if they saw a strange face.

She made a bee-line to the kegs.

_I'll just have a drink or two and sit around for half an hour._

But new Bonnie had some different plans in mind.

* * *

"Drink, drink, drink!" the voices yelled with triumph.

The world was upside down, literally. The floor was the ceiling and her tiny boots almost touched the actual ceiling. Blood was rushing to her brain, clotting her senses, pushing her down this stream of recklessness.

She was being held up by a pair of sweaty hands. Two boys were holding her legs, another one was gripping her waist and she was standing upside down, drinking directly from the tap. She'd heard it was called a keg stand. She remembered she had never got to do this in high school, but all her friends had. Now it was her turn.

The boys put her down eventually, even though the hole in her stomach had not been filled, not even by a half.

"That was awesome!" one of them cried out, putting a hand around her shoulders, flashing a wide, dumb grin.

Bonnie wiped her mouth and grabbed him by his shirt. "Shut up."

She crashed her lips to his without much forethought. It was something instinctual, something she had never quite mastered at sixteen or seventeen – letting go and being stupid – but she was getting the hang of it now. He tasted like beer and chips, but she probably tasted the same and after a while, she tasted nothing at all. His lips were chapped and soft and soon their tongues clashed in a way that made her body tingle. She could almost pretend he was someone she actually desired.

_No._

She pulled away briefly.

"Let's go dance."

He didn't protest, although he looked a bit overwhelmed by this older girl, taking charge of him. They got swept along with the other bodies jumping and darting chaotically around them. Bonnie _loved_ it. She could smell the sweat, could feel foreign skin touching hers, invading her personal space, and she wanted to get high on this sensation. Never a moment alone. Never a moment of silence. Her body thrummed and vibrated along with the music. She held onto the guy's neck, while he squeezed her waist and hips.

"What's your name?" he screamed into her ear.

Bonnie leaned her head on his shoulder and started kissing his neck, ignoring his question. He gasped, struggling between arousal and surprise. His hands moved to her ass, but he was tentative, nervous.

"Touch me. Do anything," she urged him, bringing her lips to his again. At first he went along with her encouragements, but soon she was biting his tongue and digging her nails into his chest, and he took a step back, breaking the kiss.

"Whoa, this is great and everything, but do I know you? I don't think you go to Mystic High -"

Bonnie frowned. "Why does it matter?"

He looked at her sheepishly. "You're not from around here, are you? That's cool, but I don't want any trouble."

She rolled her eyes. He did not understand she didn't care who he was, or who _she_ was for that matter. She just wanted contact and oblivion. Was that so much to ask?

"Just enjoy the ride, okay?"

But he seemed to be getting other ideas. "Um, actually, I have a girlfriend, but I guess we could still make out if you don't tell anyone–"

Bonnie shook her head. "Forget it." She zapped him with a current of magic that made him shriek and she quickly dived into the pool of bodies, ready to select a new, less disappointing partner. Her search didn't take long. She found another available guy straight away. He was much more enthusiastic.

"Don't ask me any questions. Just touch me," she told him sternly.

"Glad to," he answered stoically and soon his hands were so far up her thighs that her dress was almost a forgotten accessory. Bonnie leaned her head back into his chest and enjoyed the sensation. The dance was slow now and she wanted to move faster, but she had to pace herself. Her head was swimming in alcohol and the room was spinning.

Suddenly, it was too warm inside. The walls were closing in again. She had to get outside. She had to breathe.

"Come on," she urged him. "Let's go on the terrace."

Thankfully, there were many other people there too to alleviate the fright of being alone in the darkness of the night. Beyond them, she could see a small lawn that ran down to the lake. She wondered if the water was cold. She would have liked to try and see.

Bonnie pushed him up against the terrace wall and started kissing him again. His hands were everywhere. They even landed on the zipper of her dress.

Could she do this? Could she be this careless in front of strangers?

"How old are you?" she mumbled between kisses.

"Turning seventeen in a month," he mumbled back.

_Good enough. _

Her moral compass was wavering, but she clasped it shut. This was about not being alone in her head. This was about living again.

And then, she heard his voice.

"Bonnie? What the hell?"

_No. No no no no._

She almost didn't want to pull away from the kiss, almost didn't want to acknowledge what was happening. But even through her blurry, drunken haze, she saw Damon Salvatore clearly standing in front of her. He wore a severe expression on his face. The kind _she_ usually sported.

"Uh….hi."

"_Hi_? Bonnie, are you making out with a sixteen year old?!"

"He…he technically turns seventeen in a month."

Damon pushed the poor boy away from her. He grabbed her arm and tried to pull her inside the house. "Come on, we need to talk."

Her make-out partner put up a small fight.

"Hey, wait a second man, what are you, her _dad_?"

Damon turned on him with a murderous expression. "What did you just say?"

"We were just having fun and then you had to show up –"

But Damon ended his words with a pretty nasty punch to the face. He staggered back, eyes wide and ran inside the house.

"You didn't have to do that!" she protested, but her voice came out like a slurred whine. She tried to put some distance between them. He was awfully close to her now, practically breathing down her neck, inspecting her as if she were some broken toy he needed to fix.

"Oh, sure, cuz I was about to stand there and watch you eat his face," he retorted.

"It's my choice whose face I eat! Let go of me!"

She realized she sounded slightly ridiculous, but she didn't care. She had every right to have fun and waste the night away, if only to chase her demons.

"What are you doing here anyway?"

"You didn't call me when you got home. I got worried. I thought – doesn't matter anymore, but you should've called me! I found your car by the side of the road. I figured you were going to go out, but this wasn't what I'd imagined."

He brought a hand to her chin. "How drunk are you anyway? You're barely standing."

She needed to get away from him. In her current state, she might open her mouth and spill out some dark shameful secret. Not to mention, his presence was a reminder of all the things going wrong in her life at the moment.

"Just go, Damon. I'm an adult. I can handle my drinking fine."

"Clearly," he sneered.

"Please, just let me have this –"

"I'm taking you home right now. You're in no condition to party. Take it from a guy who's been there –"

"No! You haven't been _there_! I was there completely alone! So let me go!" She turned around and ran down the terrace steps, but Damon was on her footsteps.

"Bonnie, stop –"

"Go away."

"We need to talk about this, you're not okay –"

"I said I'm fine and I don't need you!" she screamed. Damon reached for her arm again, but she yanked herself free and ran down the lawn.

The lake was getting nearer and nearer. Suddenly, she didn't care anymore. She wanted this, wanted to lose herself completely, even if that meant diving into cold mud. She took off her boots and ran straight for the water.

"Bonnie, no! Stop!"

She jumped and dived into the dark water, holding her knees to her chest.

The shock of icy needles pricking her skin relieved the tension which had built up inside her. Now all that negative energy seemed to dissipate. She was entombed by heavy folds of water and she felt weirdly at peace. Her body was screaming at her to get out, but her mind was not responding. Her mind was sitting back and watching the madness unravel. She looked up at the trembling surface and watched it recede from her vision. She closed her eyes and let the water slide into her nostrils, down into her lungs.

She had never been suicidal, until the Other Side. People thought she liked sacrificing herself over and over again, putting others before her and making grand, sweeping gestures of generosity that usually involved risking her life. But the truth was she had always considered it her duty, not a pleasure. She had never enjoyed any of it, but she had swallowed it like a bitter, necessary pill.

The Other Side had taught her the price of life. But it had also taught her that sometimes, death was the only way _not_ to pay that price.

It was absurd; she had gone through hell to get back here and now she was almost throwing it away. She had wanted tonight to be full of noise and contact, but now, silence enveloped her again on all sides.

Inescapable.

And then, there were arms around her. Strong, rough fingers digging into her ribs. Maybe it was the monster of the lake. When she had been little, Grams used to scare her with stories like that. You never knew how real they were when she told them. Grams had a talent of making the impossible possible. If magic was real, maybe the monster of the lake was real too. In Grams' story, it claimed its victims by dragging them in the waters and consuming them slowly. If that was happening to her now, the monster was doing a pretty bad job of it, since he was pulling her up towards the surface.

She experienced another shock when she felt oxygen mingling with the water in her lungs.

Her throat was constricted. She choked on her own breath.

"Bon? Bon, look at me. Come on. Breathe. Breathe."

The monster was cradling her in his arms. She turned over and opened her mouth. She coughed water and mud. Lots of it.

He was patting her back.

"Let it all out, witchy. I know you guys hate water."

He was sopping wet, courtesy of having gone into the lake after her. He had dragged her on the opposite shore. She lifted her head feebly and saw the house party across the water. People had gathered on the banks and were watching her as if she were some kind of crazy freak.

_Maybe I am._

She glanced up at Damon. He still looked frustratingly handsome, particularly now when his body was accentuated by the water.

It wasn't fair. She was supposed to see less of him now and get over these cumbersome feelings. But hours later, here they were.

"I'll go get you a towel."

"No…don't bother. I can just do this."

She sat down in the grass and closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation of warmth. She muttered the spell words and soon enough, her whole body was glowing with internal heat. Her dress was beginning to dry up.

Damon whistled. "Impressive little trick there. Especially since you're pretty wasted right now."

"I'm completely lucid," she slurred. "Plus...it's super easy to perform."

"Hey, remember that time on the Other Side when the shower broke and my jeans and flannel got soaked? I don't remember you whipping this out for me then."

"First of all," she said, coughing up more water, "that flannel was horrible."

He chuckled softly. Suddenly, he was crouching down and pulling back her wet hair from her face. She swallowed thickly.

"I should be pissed at you right now. In fact, I _should_ kill you for being this stupid, but you've pretty much conquered death at this point."

"And I'd give you so many aneurysms your head would explode."

"Fair enough. But do that again and I'm going to make you regret ever befriending me."

Bonnie sighed. He did not know how much he needed to shut up about their friendship.

"I'm getting lessons of sobriety from…you. Didn't you once kill Jeremy out of spite?"

Damon raised an eyebrow. "I see it's no-filter night."

"I just – wanted to get out of the house. Out of myself. I can't really do normal right now."

"I asked you if you were okay."

"And what were you expecting me to say?!" she shot back.

"The truth! Because we lived there for three months, and you're right, I don't know what it was like for you when you were left alone, but I sure as hell remember we pulled through that shit _together_. And you know why? Because we talked!"

"We're not there anymore, Damon!"

"So? You can't tell me what's wrong?"

"Look, I've only been back for a couple of hours and I'm already a mess. I didn't want you to know."

Damon scowled. "Yeah, better give me a nice surprise instead."

"Hey! I didn't ask you to come here."

"You don't have to! I'll come anyway!"

Bonnie breathed out shakily. "Why?"

Damon did not seem to comprehend the question. "What do you mean why? I just _will_."

He had nothing else to say to that. As always, he expected others to just understand whatever he meant.

He offered her a hand, and she got up clumsily, falling into him again. He steadied her, placing a hand on her back, but she quickly darted away.

If he noticed anything, he remained quiet.

They started walking towards Wickery Bridge. There was no other way across the lake, unless they wanted to go for a swim again.

When they reached the summit of the bridge, Damon stopped for a moment and looked out at the water. The bridge bore a lot of memories for everyone. It was a place of death and rebirth. Bonnie knew he was probably thinking about Elena, her parents, her demise and subsequent revival. Bonnie wondered if he regretted any of it, and how much. Did he wish Elena had never been turned? The alcohol was really doing things to her head.

"Thanks...for getting me out," she said, to fill up the dreadful silence closing in again.

"Don't mention it. And I mean it. If Elena finds out, she'll snap both our necks."

Bonnie leaned against the railing, but far enough from him so that their shoulders weren't touching.

"I guess it was a bit stupid."

"No kidding. So, if I wasn't going to show up, were you going to go to town on that kid?"

"Of course not. We would've found a bedroom first."

Damon pretended to scowl. "Who are you right now?"

"An average college girl," she mumbled, shrugging her shoulders.

"Nothing average about you, Bon Bon," he replied. She tried to take the words as a joke and not dig in any deeper because there _was_ nothing else. There never _could_ be.

"You didn't have to punch the kid."

Damon frowned. "Huh. Felt good, though. I guess I got lost in the moment."

Bonnie bit her lip. Her heart was starting to speed up again and she didn't like the butterflies which suddenly started fluttering in her stomach.

"Are you going to punch all my dates from now on?"

"That was _not_ a date. And I'll have to do a background check on pretty much all your potential partners, yes. We don't wanna end up with another Jeremy Gilbert situation, do we?"

Bonnie smiled. "The kid was right. You're such a _dad_."

Damon threw her a look. "Watch it, Bennett. You're getting cocky."

They stayed on the bridge for a couple of minutes more. This time, she didn't find the silence so encroaching.

When they finally got back to her car, he turned her around and said, "Listen, next time, just come to me and we'll down a bottle of Bourbon together. Without killing each other afterwards, though."

Bonnie sighed. "Damn. Your plan sounded _almost_ perfect. But if there's no suicide pact I'm not interested."

"I'm serious, though."

"Look, Damon, I need time to -"

"Adjust, yeah you said. But that doesn't mean you have to do it by yourself."

"You have enough on your plate as it is."

Damon frowned. "You gave me hope when I gave up. You're the reason I'm here and you're probably also the reason I still have a relationship. You _saved_ me. I'm returning the favor. I won't let you slip."

Bonnie inhaled sharply. _Please stop talking like that, Damon. Please._

"Come on, witchy, let's get you home."

He ushered her into her car and got behind the wheel.

_He won't let me slip_, she thought, turning towards the window, hiding her face from him. _But he's the reason I'm slipping._


End file.
